


Caution: Hot

by richiehozier (stoletheshow)



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Eddie Kaspbrak, Coffee Puns, M/M, Rating May Change, bev calls eddie sunshine, eddie and bev are bffs, tired eddie kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoletheshow/pseuds/richiehozier
Summary: Eddie falls asleep to Richie's voice but probably not in the way you're thinking.OrEddie Kaspbrak is a tired barista working his way through college, and he just wants to sleep, okay?Happy #NationalCoffeeDay





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't want to post this until it was finished but it's national coffee day so i had to at least post the first two chapters!  
> only warnings are for language, and brief BRIEF mentions of abusive childhoods.

It’s 9:00 on a Tuesday morning and Eddie’s never wanted to quit his job more in his entire life. He’s barely two hours into his shift at his university’s coffee shop, Bean There, Done That, and he’s already messed up and had to remake three drink orders and had one iced coffee thrown in his face.

He’s not too proud to admit that he has to wipe away a tear or two while he’s in the back changing his apron. It’s not like he’s not used to customers being assholes, because _hello_. He’s just so damn tired, Eddie feels like he’s one bad day away from losing it completely.

Beverly, who’s his shift lead from 7am-2pm, and his best friend all the other hours, keeps looking at him all sympathetic like, before focusing her attention back on the guests in line.

Eventually, Eddie manages to pull himself together enough to not mess up any more of the drink orders she sends his way, smiling as genuinely as he can at customers as he hands them their coffees.

At 11:00, when it’s time for them to take their first break, Bev pulls him out of the café and down the street to where her car is parked. They sit in the backseat, like always, and she rolls down the window and lights a cigarette, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out of the window before talking to Eddie.

“Something’s heavy on your mind, sunshine.” She leads with, and Eddie nods from where his head is rested against her shoulder.

“So talk.” She says.

Eddie sighs. It’s not like he can just _lie_ to Bev. “It’s nothing. Just slept like shit again last night. It’s like I can’t even focus when I’m here, or when I’m in class. I don’t know what day of the week it is, it’s like I’m just floating. Like I’m in a fog. Everything’s blurring together.” He explains as best as he can, not even bothering to feel embarrassed about the way his voice cracks.

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Eddie finds himself drifting to her quiet breathing.

When she does talk, it’s quieter than before. “You need to talk to someone, Eddie. I’m sure there’s some sort of treatment or medication---”

“No. No pills.” Eddie interrupts, shaking his head vehemently. She looks at him, taken aback for a second, before nodding in understanding.

Eddie didn’t meet Bev until his freshman year of college. They’d been in the same Sex, Gender, and Power class and ended up hitting it off right away. Turns out traumatic childhoods have a way of bringing people closer together or something.

Most of their weekends back then consisted of them getting positively shitfaced in one of their apartments and trading tragic backstories. Eddie wished he’d known Bev when he was growing up. They could’ve helped each other a lot.

“Okay. No pills.” She says easily. “There’s plenty of other things that can help you sleep. Have you tried a white noise machine? I heard those are pretty effective. Or like a podcast or something. This guy I follow on twitter swears by them.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “A podcast?”

“Yeah!” She says all animated like, “Like some people listen to sports podcasts, or political podcasts, but there are some made specifically to help people sleep. Not that those things aren’t boring enough.” She jokes.

“Huh.” He says thoughtfully. “I’ll look into it, sure.”

“Good.” She says, distractedly as she starts typing away on her phone.

Eddie closes his eyes and dozes for a couple more minutes. It’s probably 10 minutes or so later when he opens his eyes and sighs, tapping Bev on the thigh.

“Back to work we go, c’mon.”

Bev just smiles at him. “You’re so cute. I already texted boss lady and told her I’m taking you home. You ‘got sick in my car and there’s no way you can be around food right now.’ She doesn’t want to see you back at the shop for at least three days.” She says, sounding a little too pleased with herself, and Eddie is so, so grateful.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says fervently, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. Beverly just laughs, loud and bright.

“Yes the fuck you do.” She says and slaps him once upside the head.

*

The ride back to Eddie’s apartment is a quiet one. Beverly’s got the radio playing low, one hand on the steering wheel and another lit cigarette in the other.

She’s bobbing her head to some indie song that’s playing. She’s beautiful, Eddie thinks. Like someone plucked her right out of a Brat Pack film and into his life.

She pulls into an empty spot in the lot of his building, putting the car in park before turning blue eyes on Eddie.

“Get the fuck out of my car.” She says, smiling sweetly at him.

Eddie laughs. “Thanks again, Bev. Really. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the day.” He says earnestly, and her smile gets softer.

“I know, sunshine. Try and get some rest. Me and Ben’ll be by later if you’re up to it. We can watch a movie or something.”

Eddie nods. He liked Ben. He was sweet, and quiet, and absolutely head over heels in love with Beverly. “That sounds great.” He says, getting out. “Thanks again!” he calls before shutting the door and making his way to his apartment.

 

The first thing Eddie does is change out of his work clothes and into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.  He’s ready to spend the next 4 hours laying on his couch and watching shitty TV until his brain feels like jelly, when he remembers what Bev had suggested.

He grabs his phone and searches “sleep podcasts”. The webpage brings up hundreds of different results and Eddie clicks on the first one he sees. It’s called “see you in your dreams | the podcast so boring it puts you to sleep” by an author named Trashmouth.

Eddie rolls his eyes but hits the play button nonetheless. _Desperate times_ , he thinks to himself.

The podcast starts off the way Eddie assumes they all do, with the guy introducing himself in a voice that’s way too soothing for someone who calls themself _Trashmouth_.

The more the guy talks, the more Eddie can feel himself relaxing, deeper and deeper into the pillows. It’s almost like he’s in a trance.

The last thing Eddie remembers thinking is that he could listen to Trashmouth talk for hours, probably, and not get tired of his voice.

 

When Eddie wakes up, he’s more confused than anything. He checks his phone, expecting to find a text or two letting him know when Bev and Ben are gonna be stopping by, or asking what he wants to eat-- but instead he is met with a total of 3 missed calls, about 10 unread text messages, and his phone informing him boldly that it’s 6:12 in the morning, nearly 20 hours after he’d left work the previous day.

Jesus.

**Bev:  
we’ll be there around 5:30**

**Bev:  
picking up subs from the shop down the street. turkey nd chedd right?**

**Bev:  
if u don’t want us to stop by just say so we can always reschedule**

**Bev:  
eddie im getting worried**

**Bev  
2 Missed Calls  & Voicemail**

**Ben:  
Hey man, you goof?**

**Ben:  
*good?**

**Ben:  
1 Missed Call**

**Bev:  
Sent a photo attachment**

**OMG CUTIE PIE**

The attached picture was of Beverly and Ben, smiling widely as they kneeled next to Eddie’s sleeping form, with the caption “we let ourselves in and look what we found!!!” meaning she must’ve saved the picture from snapchat.

_Fuck._

Before Eddie can even begin to process any of the weird shit currently going on, his phone lights up again with a call from Beverly.

“Hello?” He croaks, and then clears his throat. “Hello?” He tries again.

“Eddie! You’re alive!” Exclaims Bev, a little too cheerful this early in the morning. “Well we knew you were alive, _duh,_ you were snoring like a pig, but you looked peaceful and we didn’t wanna wake ya. I guess my advice worked, huh? Glad you could get some rest, sunshine, how long’s it been?”

“Couple of days.” He grumbles, getting up and stretching his back until he hears a satisfying ‘pop’.

She hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well, I’m on my way into Bean There, so I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

She repeats the sentiment, making obnoxious kissing noises at him until he hangs up.

On his way into the shower, Eddie stops to look at his reflection. For the first time in a long time he allows himself to really _look_. He still looks tired. If anything, the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than they were the day before. But at least his mind is clearer, sharper. His hair’s getting long again, too. He’ll have to schedule an appointment with a barber pretty soon.

It’s not until Eddie’s in the shower, hot water pouring down his back, that he realizes how much he missed this. Missed slow mornings, and not having anywhere to be. No deadlines looming over his head. Just the simple things like having a good night’s sleep and having a little bit of time for himself.

He steps out of the shower smelling like Lavender and feeling more alert than he has in days. He pulls on a clean hoodie and a pair of track shorts before making his way to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea. (He wasn’t investing in a kettle no matter how hard Bev glared at him whenever she was over.)

It’s a long, long overdue rest day. He spends a good portion of the day unbothered; texting Bev, emailing professors, watching Netflix. It’s exactly what he needed, sure, but Eddie knows it can’t last. He still has bills and rent to pay, classes to pass, and responsibilities that he can’t ignore.

+

Eventually, he has to go back to his job, and back to his classes. He doesn’t hate it as much as he’d thought he would.

It’s only been a couple of days, but Eddie’s already started to miss the structure that work and school gave his life. With that, of course, comes a sometimes-overwhelming amount of stress, but Eddie thinks, maybe, that he’d prefer that to being underwhelmed and bored.

Absolutely no one would disagree, but Eddie thinks himself to be a very habitual person. It’s not like he can help when and if he actually gets to sleep, but the things that he can control, he likes to. He likes schedules, routines. The same things that make other people his age feel trapped give him a sense of freedom.

So naturally, listening to Trashmouth’s podcast becomes a nightly thing for Eddie. Even if all the episodes don’t help him fall asleep, listening to Trashmouth talk about his favorite Star Wars movie, or what he bought at the store last week helps quiet Eddie’s mind. He finds himself looking forward to Mondays and Fridays, when he knows there’ll be a new episode of _see you in your dreams_.

“That’s just sad, Eddie. We need to get you laid.” Says Bev when he mentions it to her. “But I’m so glad you found something that helps. You’re looking brighter every day, sunshine.”

And he is, he thinks. He’s feeling brighter, too.

+

The next few weeks bring more of the same. Work, school, work, school. And before Eddie knows it, midterms are right around the corner.

As if that weren’t bad enough…

Let it be known that Eddie Kaspbrak absolutely hates Pumpkin Spice season. All the other holiday drinks were fun and cute, but Eddie’s 100% sure that whoever invented pumpkin spice did it just to spite him. Bad karma from another life or something like that.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the demand. He’s made at least 30 variations of the same drink in the last three hours.

Eddie’s just about ready to throw his nametag and apron in the trash, put up a peace sign and walk out, when a tall man with dark, curly hair walks up to his register.

“Afternoon, cutie. Can I get a large hazelnut latte, and a medium soy chai?” There’s something so comforting and familiar about his voice.

_Please keep talking, I think I hear you in my dreams._ Eddie thinks.

“Sure,” He says instead, because he’s not a fucking weirdo, “can I have a name for the order?”

“Richie.” The man smirks, “Did you want a number, too?”

**_Yes._ **

“Just the name is fine. $8.78 will be your total.” Richie hands him a $10 bill. “Alright, Richie, $1.22 is your change. Bev’ll have those drinks up for you in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks, cutie.” Richie says, and winks. He even drops the change in the tip jar.

Eddie is so fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and before Eddie knows it, it’s Gingerbread and finals season.

Fall semester went by in a blur, and Eddie’s pretty sure he was only half awake for the majority of it. He’s not sure how he still has a job, let alone how he’s passing any of his classes, but someone up there must really be looking out for him, because the only class keeping him from being a barista with a bachelor’s degree is fucking Advanced Anatomy and Physiology II.

 

Eddie’s working the rare closing shift thanks to two call-offs, but he doesn’t mind. Especially on a night like tonight.

It’s been a relatively slow day at the café, seeing as though most classes are cancelled because of the weather, so Eddie spends the majority of his shift either texting Bev, or with his Human Anatomy textbook in front of him, trying to memorize a semester’s worth of learning in two weeks.

It’s about an hour and a half until close when someone walks in to the shop, scaring the shit out of Eddie, and letting in the freezing air in the process.

He’s carrying an over the shoulder bag and wearing a long peacoat, and his scarf is covering half of his face, but Eddie recognizes the man immediately.

_Richie._

Richie takes of his glasses and wipes them clean of snowflakes and fog before making his way to the register. He smiles when he notices Eddie behind the counter.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? How’re you doing, cutie?”

“I’m doing well, Richie, how about yourself?” _Keep it cool, keep it professional_ , he reminds himself.

Richie’s smile grows wider. “You remembered.”

_How could he forget?_

Eddie just nods. “What can we get for you today, Rich?”

“Large black tea, please? With milk?”

“Coming right up. Don’t worry about it,” he says when Richie reaches into his pocket to pull out a bill, “It’s on us, today.”

“Hey, man, I appreciate it.” Richie says, and Eddie goes to make his drink.

Once he hands Richie the drink, he heads back to the register to highlight more shit about blood cell lineages.

It’s not until he’s about half a chapter in that he looks up and notices a $10 bill somehow made its way into his tip jar.

“You didn’t have to do that!” He calls to where Richie’s sitting across the shop, with papers scattered on the table in front of him, red pen hanging out of his mouth.

“Neither did you!” Richie calls back.

 

Eddie sort of loses track of time between staring at his notes and staring (less obviously) at Richie. When he glances at his phone, the clock reads 9:56pm, meaning the shop would be closing in four minutes. Eddie’s lucky he had the foresight to start the closing process earlier when he’d realized they wouldn’t get a lot of business. Now all he has to do is dump the pastries and sweep the floors before he can head out.

He sweeps behind the counter before making his way into the dining room where Richie’s now passed out at one of the tables, papers still scattered around him.

Eddie hates to wake him, but he’d hate to get caught watching a practical stranger sleep even more, so he rests his hand on Richie’s shoulder and gives it a gentle shake to wake him.

“Hey. We’re closing up now. You don’t have to leave right at this second, but you gotta be out before I can lock up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Richie says, gathering his papers, most of which are marked up with the red pen he’d been using earlier. “Wouldn’t want to keep you here, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie insists.  “Here… did you want a muffin? Take one, or two, or all of them, please. We just throw them away at the end of the night. I hate that they go to waste.” He hands Richie a bagful of pastries, taking a scone for himself before dumping the rest.

“You treat all your customers this nice, cutie, or is it just me?” Richie grins.

“Technically, you’re not a customer if you don’t buy anything.” Eddie counters and Richie’s grin grows exponentially.

“Touché.” 

“Goodnight, Richie.” Eddie opens the door to let him out once he’s all bundled up, bag of pastries in hand.

“Goodnight, cutie.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You can call me Eddie, you know?” He says, pointing at his nametag where his name is written in neat block letters.

“Eddie Spaghetti… it suits you, handsome. Don’t know how I hadn’t noticed before!”

“I’m sorry, _who_?” He asks, but Richie ignores him.

“Get home safe, Spaghetti man. See you next time.”

“Now that’s not even _close_ to my fucking name!” He calls to Richie’s retreating form, but all he gets is a laugh in return.


End file.
